


Into The Dark

by entanglednow



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Consensual Violence, Consent Play, F/M, Gender Play, M/M, Mind Control, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-13
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boundaries were there to be pushed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into The Dark

  
Erik was aware that his past was...problematic. He knew that he'd been damaged, in innumerable ways, at an impressionable age. He was more than willing to admit that to himself, to admit that it had shaped him, that it had _twisted_ him. There were things he wanted that he knew were wrong. He'd known for a long time how to be ashamed of his own desires. He'd known how to hide them, how to suppress them.

He'd honestly thought - assumed - that Charles would reject him. Because he always saw the best in people, and Erik had depths, but he was certain that none of them were kind, or clean. Nothing anyone would be able to wade through, and not judge him.

He wasn't prepared for Charles's friendship, he had no defence against it.

When he'd asked what Charles knew about him, when he'd asked, and gotten an answer - he had expected condemnation. Instead he'd learnt, unexpectedly, that Charles had a pragmatic approach to desire. To the natural curiosity of the human mind. Erik didn't know if it was the constant exposure to other people's preferences, fantasies, and fetishes. Or whether he was simply more flexible. More accepting of the limits of human endurance. Or perhaps he was just a little twisted himself.

Either way, Charles was willing, and uniquely able, to give him anything he wanted.

At first Erik had been unwilling to ask. Charles's power wasn't a party trick, to be used on a whim.

Charles had protested that it was good practice for him. Looking so proper, and expensive, and _naive_ , in his cardigan, and old-fashioned hair. Erik had shoved him to his knees, fingers dragging his mouth open, for the weight of his cock, and he'd thought of everything he'd ever wanted to do.

It was far too easy to say yes.

Charles had picked - Erik had assumed - whichever had amused him most, to try first.

At first, Charles's body, slim and soft and female had been a curious landscape, pressed into the shelves of the library, legs spread round Erik's waist. It had been quick, and ungentle, wet and easy, in a way Erik had rarely found satisfying. But the soft noises had turned rough, when his hands pushed up under shirt material, to investigate the naked curves that Charles most certainly hadn't possessed before, or since. Erik hadn't asked how Charles had managed it. Not when it all felt so real.

Later, Erik had bitten into the skin of his knuckles, and watched Charles fucked by nameless, faceless men. Jealousy warring with anger, until both were finally overwhelmed by his own need. Illusions melting away in favour of his own impatient greed.

Sometimes Charles wore the faces, the bodies, the powers, of others. It had felt like infidelity, sharp and strange. But Erik knew Charles enjoyed the way he reacted to the feel, weight, and taste, of every new skin.

Erik had finally admitted, over the steam of a coffee cup, to some of his darker fantasies. Deeply buried, warm and red, with glinting edges. Charles had indulged him, beautifully, horribly. Erik's fingernails, the next morning had been clean, though he'd still felt the strange, phantom grittiness of blood beneath them.

He made Charles punish him for that one. Made him dig inside his head, and steal his control, Charles's power inside him. He made Erik touch himself, made him beg, made him choke on the slick heaviness of Charles's cock. Body moving wherever Charles demanded, a stranger in his own skin. Until he was spread out, stretched open, ruined and _used_.

He'd eventually lost count of the number of things he needed to be punished for, indulgence and penance tangled up together, until there was no line between them, and every morning he still woke up clean.

Some desires he still hadn't spoken out loud. He hadn't wanted to speak out loud. He'd been more than willing to keep them locked inside his head. For all that Charles had given him already.

Until Charles had appeared outside his room, framed by the darkness of the hallway.

"The one you think about in the middle of the night," Charles had said, quietly, head tipped down, eyes dark. "The one you're afraid of. You can have it, if you want."

Erik had gone very still, fingers squeezing into the wooden chess pieces he was putting away, breath sharp in his throat.

"You know I can make you stop, if I want to," Charles reminded him.

Erik's resolve had crumbled to nothing. He'd stared at the empty doorway, heartbeat so loud it had drowned out everything else. Arousal pushed far enough that it felt like pain.

He'd followed Charles to his room, wrapped a hand round his throat, and forced him down onto the bed. Charles had fought him, nails drawing blood. Erik had sank deep in his own guilty lust, while Charles made panicked, hurt noises beneath him. It had felt viscerally real, and Erik had hated himself for it.

Charles had made coffee the next morning, like nothing had happened, passed it across the table, and folded the paper into an easier shape to read. Erik had stared across the kitchen, and wondered why Charles would do any of this for him. How he could let him, could accept everything he was so easily. After everything Erik had done.

It had already been going on for far too long, Charles's body familiar against his, in a way no one's had ever been before, when Erik tightened his fingers, and eased Charles back out of a kiss. Until he was sitting on the very edge of the bed, Erik's fingers pushed back through his hair, tipping his head back.

"What do _you_ want?" Erik asked.

Charles looked surprised, and Erik cursed himself, violently, for never thinking to ask, until now. So tangled up in his own psyche that he never even thought to wonder.

"Tell me Charles?"

"You're not ready for that," Charles said quietly, warningly, something completely unreadable behind his eyes.


End file.
